The Day The World Died Novels & Stories

I muttered, adjusting my grip on the blade. She smirked, the faintest trace of amusement lighting her face. “You know,” she said, her tone more thoughtful now, “I’ve been trying to figure out what happened to this place. It wasn’t always like this, was it?” “No,” I admitted. “It wasn’t.” The world had been dying long before either of us were born, but the cataclysm had come quickly when it did. Fires that swallowed cities whole, storms that tore the land apart, and something darker, something no one wanted to name.

I smiled, assuming it would be just as funny to me. "I'm realizing that your parents were last-dayers," she laughed. "Last-dayers?" The steam on the mirror and glass surfaces was thinning as the water became colder but our bodies kept the other warm. "Wolves who store up things and burrow holes in the ground to stay in when the world explodes." I chuckled. "The world explodes? Is that how the world will end in Sun Wolf world?" I laughed. "Well, we were told that the stars will fall out of the sky and everything will explode. Makes the whole hoarding and hole digging useless doesn't it?"

[First Morning] The world did not end with a bang or a whimper; it ended with the soft, rhythmic sound of the Atlantic tide pulling back from the shore of the Azores. For Jinyan and Panni, the apocalypse was over, and the silence that followed was the most expensive luxury they had ever owned.

“I’m only going to say this once, and I’m saying it because you were one of my father’s men. I won’t explain the details, but you need to pack up your crew, take your pay, and stock up on whatever food and water you can get your hands on. In two days… the world is coming to an end.” Martins’s eyes froze. He stared at me like I had suddenly started speaking a foreign language. His jaw went slightly slack as he searched my face for any sign that I was joking. “Coming to… an end?” he repeated slowly, his tone careful, like he was dealing with someone who might have lost their mind. “Two days,” I repeated. I didn’t bother trying to convince him further. “Take it seriously, or don’t. That’s up to

The third day of the apocalypse was a study in desolation. The satellite uplink showed a world transformed, its familiar landmarks buried under ice and snow, its streets empty of life. The city was dead, its population reduced to a few thousand scattered survivors who huddled in basements and tunnels, their bodies struggling to generate enough heat to keep their vital organs functioning. The cold had killed the vast majority, their bodies frozen into grotesque sculptures that littered the streets like macabre decorations.

Four months. One hundred and twenty days since the sky turned black and the earth cracked open. One hundred and twenty days since a ten-year-old boy amplified the kinetic force of human railguns to shatter a cosmic hive-mind, and a seven-year-old girl wove a four-dimensional labyrinth to swallow a planet-sized entity of pure entropy. One hundred and twenty days since the world ended, and we built a new one from the ashes.

I started, still thinking of what exactly I could tell him, “But I am going to start with one sentence, and I am going to assure you that this sentence is the whole truth, and nothing else.” Harris leaned forward, and his eyebrows were raised in confusion. “Okay,” he answered, “What is it?” “The world is going to end in six days.” He blinked, his brows furrowed, and his mouth grew wide open with shock. I continued before he could interrupt me, “Six days from now, something will happen – I don’t’ know what exactly – but I do know the effects. It will begin suddenly, people will start getting sick, society will collapse, and the dead will rise.”

My lawyer husband, Chester Stratton, and our five-year-old son were kidnapped. By the time I arrived, the bomb had already detonated, and they were reduced to ashes before my eyes. My older sister, a prosecutor, had tried to help me track down the culprit, yet even she was captured and tortured to death. Everyone said my ruthless methods had earned me too many enemies, that they had suffered because of me. They said I should have been the one to die. Even the Criminal Investigation Division stripped me of my position. For three years, I secretly hunted for the mastermind. Until one day, my investigation led me to a restaurant. There, I saw my husband, my son, and my sister—the three peop

“We document it here. No one opens it until Decker or another qualified person clears the handling plan.” She looked at me, and something in her expression softened. Not trust, not yet. But she saw that I was listening. Mikael tried to stand. His knees folded. Sara caught his shoulder before he hit the floor, then guided him onto the bench without letting his sleeve touch the bloody one. Elsa asked the questions she could: when the crew disappeared, whether anyone had been bitten, whether he had touched the page. He answered in broken pieces. He had heard a noise outside, seen movement near the gate, and then found himself alone. He didn’t know what the marks on the road meant. He didn’t kno

"It was the day you met me…the day your planet died." Arius' eyes widened a bit at the mention of the event. Was it really in seven days? Was that really the anniversary of the day his life changed, the day he lost everything? That day was the beginning of the war between the Deslyans and the angels. It was a day to remember, and he had nearly forgotten. Being on Earth was probably the reason. He had been so preoccupied lately that it had completely slipped his mind. "In seven days, this will all end," stated Lucius. "I wanna put an end to this little war we've waged. On that day, one of us will die."